


bring on the rapture

by A_Confused_Kitten



Series: the kids aren't alright [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Badass Zuko (Avatar), Blind Zuko (Avatar), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Partially Blind Zuko (Avatar), Partially Deaf Zuko (Avatar), non-canon blind character, world building, zuko never hunted aang and becomes somewhat of a rebel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24417532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Confused_Kitten/pseuds/A_Confused_Kitten
Summary: He wanders the Earth Kingdom, introduces himself as Zuko, a name that belongs to these peoples’ enemies, because there’s good among his nation, and he wants the world to know that.Because every day there are more reports of the Fire Nation claiming more land or another defenseless town in his father's- in Ozai’s name.And despite all the damage his soldiers are causing, he wants the other cultures to know. Wants people to know that the Fire Nation is suffering just as much as they are in this war, and that they are more than the face of the enemy.His people sport burns and tragedy just as they do, and if no one else is going to show that, then it’s up to him.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: the kids aren't alright [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763332
Comments: 113
Kudos: 3801
Collections: Best of Avatar: The Last Airbender, Canon Divergent AUs, Good_or_Decent_Zuko_With_a_dash_of_Iroh_Azula_Gaang, Quality Fics, The Best of Zuko, The Tales of the World of Avatar, avatar tingz





	bring on the rapture

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Do You Hear The People Sing?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538337) by [generic__username](https://archiveofourown.org/users/generic__username/pseuds/generic__username). 



> [ Translated into Russian](https://ficbook.net/readfic/10390141) by [ IsogaiNakonai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsogaiNakonai/pseuds/IsogaiNakonai)

When Zuko is thirteen, his life crumbles.

_Why,_ he wants to scream, _why? What’s so wrong about protecting the lives of_ our _people?_

But he never gets the chance. 

  
  


He wakes up three days after the Agni Kai on a ship full of strangers, bandages covering his eye and ear, and oh _spirits_ it wasn’t just a nightmare. 

His body aches and his head _burns_ and he begs for something familiar. Calls for Uncle and mother and Lu Ten, incapable of seeing the disgraced sailors that surround him, holding him down while an unfamiliar person stands over him.

The last thing he remembers is a flash of candle light, and someone screaming.

  
  


Two weeks later, he’s allowed to leave the room he’s been resting in, and it’s then that he finally realizes the extent of his father’s damage. 

If he closes his right eye, the world turns fuzzy and blurred, and Zuko can barely see further than fifteen feet in front of him. Opening his eye, the word comes into focus, though his left side is at a clear disadvantage. 

And from what he can tell, his hearing isn’t that great either.

_So much for not spending too much time on the ship,_ he thinks with a frown, _looks like I got something new to practice._

So Zuko learns.

Adapts to the new disadvantages his left side brings, and while a part of him hopes they fade with time, Zuko won’t let himself go unprepared.

For the next two months, he trains. Swords, knives, even a bow and arrows. Anything he can get his hands on, Zuko tries. As it turns out, he’s _terrible_ with long range weapons, such as the bow. _Especially_ the bow.

  
  


Father doesn’t want him.

The realization hits him suddenly, sneaking into his thoughts subtly and quiet, and it refuses to go. He’s got nothing left at home, and Zuko doesn’t even know where home _is_ anymore.

He can’t return there, and being stuck on this ship has never felt more confining.

So he takes a tiny, pale pink candle, closes his eyes, and _breathes._ He takes one breath, and then another, until his mind is his own. 

When he opens his eyes, Zuko can’t contain the gasp that escapes him. Because for the first time since the Agni Kai, he’s finally created a fire. He inhales and the fire pulses, exhales and the fire calms. It’s instinctive, something any firebender can do, but Zuko still feels like crying.

It’s only a tiny fragment of what he once could do, but for the first time in months, the flame doesn’t steal away his breath, or have his heart fleeing like a frightened rabararoo. 

It's not much, not yet, but it's a start.

  
  


Six months after the Agni Kai, the ship makes its way to an Earth Kingdom port, and Zuko goes his separate way. 

The highest ranking officer, a Lieutenant named Jee, bows to him, as formal as one would his father. "We're sad to see you go, my prince," he straightens, "If you're ever in need of assistance, send us a hawk and you'll have this entire crew in a heartbeat."

Zuko wonders what he's done to deserve such loyalty. He's a disgraced prince, practically no one, and he's _leaving_ them. Why should they follow him like he still matters?

Still, Zuko bows in return. "Thank you, Lieutenant." And then he's rushing away, because he doesn't know what else to say.

  
  


If Zuko’s being honest, he doesn’t understand how he got here. Alone, wandering the Earth Kingdom, trying to find some way to _help._

He knows the basics, of course, he’s _lived_ through it, but everything else? Zuko has no no idea. It all started with that Agni Kai, and the weeks after it, because he finally understands that none of it is _right._

It isn’t right to pin siblings against each other, until competition is all that’s left and there’s no more kindness and warmth between them, or to shower a son in nothing but cruel, cruel whispers and thinly veiled threats. And, as Uncle had told him, it isn’t right to _burn_ your own child for simply speaking their mind.

And the sad thing was that even despite all of that, Zuko misses _home._ He misses the turtle-ducks in the pound, the ones he always hid from Azula, and the soft smiles of the servants he asked to keep him company. He misses his _mother,_ and the home that seems to have collapsed with her disappearance.

And there’s a way for him to return. Find the Avatar. Complete an impossible quest that can only be a way to get rid of him.

Zuko knows this, he _does,_ but that didn’t make it easier.

  
  


He wanders the Earth Kingdom, introduces himself as _Zuko,_ a name that belongs to these peoples’ enemies, because there’s good among his nation, and he wants the world to know that.

Because every day there are more reports of the Fire Nation claiming more land or another defenseless town in his father’s- in Ozai’s name.

And despite all the damage his soldiers are causing, he wants the other cultures to know. Wants people to know that the Fire Nation is suffering just as much as they are in this war, and that they are more than the face of the enemy. 

His people sport burns and tragedy just as they do, and if no one else is going to show that, then it’s up to him.

  
  


Slowly, Zuko starts giving life to fire. 

A moment of concentration leads to sparks in his campfire, and a simple gesture has fire hovering above his skin. The sight of it makes his stomach churn, however, and the flame is gone in a matter of seconds.

He's not quite ready for that level of closeness, but he will be.

  
  


_Never give up,_ says his Uncle’s dagger, the one he’d given to Zuko as a boy.

_Don't forget who you are,_ his mother had told him, a ghost in the night before she was gone forever.

It’s advice like this Zuko relies on. Going from a prince to a common person isn’t a small change, but he’s getting by. But he needs to do _more_ than that. 

Every town he enters shows signs of the war; firebenders taking what they want, a kind man’s only son stolen away from him, burn scars littering both young and old.

Guilt floods his chest, cutting off his voice until all he can do is smile and nod. This is his family’s work, and no matter how many proverbs Uncle may have thrown at him, the weight of his family’s mistakes will never leave Zuko’s shoulders. 

A woman, an herbalist, gives him a sad smile. “They’ve hurt you, too, haven’t they?” Calloused hands touch his face, his neck, his collarbone. Because while the burn on his face may carry a distinctive shape, a mockery of a father’s soft touch, fire is _alive._ It’s a hungry creature, and it doesn’t stop because a mere man commands it to. 

“Yes.” Zuko answers quietly, honestly, and the woman looks even sadder. 

"Nothing is sacred anymore," the woman says, "Not even their own children." 

And he wants to say no, tell her that he's not Fire Nation, but his eyes will always prove him wrong. Golden eyes, rare in his homeland and unheard of anywhere else.

Eyes are windows to the soul, or so Uncle used to say, and it's his eyes that always give him away.

"I'm going to fix this," Zuko tells her, determined to make the words true. "I promise, I'll find a way to fix this and help everyone I can." 

She gives him a small bag of silver pieces. "Take these, dear," the woman says, ignoring his protests. Zuko takes it, because what else can he do? Refusing would only be rude, because this woman, this stranger is giving up what little she has so _Zuko_ can live on.

“You’re thinking too hard. My son used to do the same.” The woman tells him, and his eyes dart away. “You remind me of him, you’re both too stubborn for your own good.”

Zuko leaves not long after that, but her words stay with him.

  
  


It’s the quiet, starlit nights that Zuko craves his Uncle’s company.

He remembers a gentle smile, and an even gentler embrace. He remembers a warm fire in the fireplace and the faint smell of ginseng tea as Uncle taught him to play Pai Sho, smiling as Uncle held his white lotus tile.

But Uncle is gone.

He's gone and Zuko doesn't know where he can find him. Since Lu Ten, Uncle is a ghost. He wasn't there at the Agni Kai, and he isn't here now, but still. Zuko wants to find him more than almost anything.

When morning comes, the sun's first rays stretching across a familiar village, a pair of twins, one girl and one boy, ask him what Fire Nation soldiers do in their free time.

Zuko's not a soldier, and he never has been, but he _is_ Fire Nation, so he sits down and teaches them to play Pai Sho. They're quick learners, and by the time their mother approaches, they've each beaten Zuko twice, and it’s getting dark enough that Zuko breathes fire into his palms as the siblings play each other.

"Keeli! Aigou!” Their mother calls, and she freezes for a moment upon seeing him. Maybe it’s his scar or his fire, or maybe it’s his cursed golden eyes, but their mother stands still. But when she speaks, her voice is warm. “Now, are you two bothering this young man?”

And at this moment, Zuko wants nothing more than to hide his face, because there’s no telling how the mother may react and he doesn’t have good luck with parents.

They shake their heads eagerly. “No!” The girl exclaims, smiling brightly. “Zuko was showing us how to play Pai Sho!”

The boy responds just as happily as his twin. “And he can firebend, mama!”

“Can he, now?” The mother says, raising a brow, as though it isn’t obvious from the fire cupped in his hands.

Zuko nods, and the fire twists in his hands, forming silhouettes that dance under the moon.

  
  


The second Zuko sees the mask, he knows he’s going to buy it. It’s a fine piece of craftsmanship, or it is from his experience at least, and Zuko always loved the theatre productions he saw with his mother, but _Love Amongst the Dragons_ had always been her favorite. And as much as a part of him wanted to keep moving, he _can’t._

So he buys it, tucking it into a small bag he’d gotten. Well, gotten is a bit of a misnomer. A girl, one who couldn’t have been much older than him, had given it to him, a smile on her face as she said, _'t_ _ake this, little prince.'_

“Hey, kid.” A vendor says, and Zuko blinks up at him.

He isn’t a kid, not mentally at least, but he’s on the smaller side of thirteen, and he has to step back to look the man in the eye. “Yes, sir?” He says, respectfully. Always respectfully, because even if his social skills aren’t the strongest, he isn’t going to offend someone if he can help it.

“You should be careful.” The vendor says simply. “Looking that similar to the boy from the stories is an easy way to get into trouble.”

Zuko tips his head, and the action reminds him of a fox. “Stories?” He asks, a curious expression settling across his features. “What stories?”

The vendor, who’s name is Shun, laughs and tells Zuko to get comfortable, before launching into a story he’d heard from a customer, who’d heard it from a merchant, who’d heard it from a Fire Nation servant. Shun spins a story of a boy the Fire Nation calls a protector, of the _little prince_ banished for speaking out against the slaughter of innocents. Stories of a scarred boy who teaches children Fire Nation games under Agni’s last rays, who’s laughter echoes through the streets as he lights a candle in the palm of his hand.

Stories of Agni’s child and the son of dragons.

“I need to go.” Zuko says, when the market has gone quiet. It’s an eerie feeling, being in a place like this after sundown. Marketplaces are crowded and warm, a new surprise around each corner, nothing like this still night.

Shun takes a good look at him, eyes scouring every inch of his form, but for once, it doesn’t feel like he’s being judged or compared. Slowly, finally, Shun nods. “Take these,” he orders, and hands Zuko a pair of dao blades.

Curved handles meet sharp metal, and Zuko can’t help but appreciate the beauty of them. _Beautiful and deadly_ , he thinks, _beautiful and deadly and his._

“I can’t take these-” He starts to say, but Shun cuts him off with a laugh.

The vendor places them in Zuko’s hands. “Take them, kid.”

So Zuko leaves, moves on with a pair of dao blades strapped to his back, alongside the mask tucked away and the knife hidden in his boot.

  
  


He dreams of fire, of father and the cruel words that flow from his mouth like a waterfall.

“You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.” The memory says, and then all he knows is heat.

His face is _burning_ , and he can’t see or hear. Distantly, he hears the crowd go silent, but all he retains is the pain and the betrayal of his father, the one inflicting it.

Zuko wakes up _screaming._

  
  


The first time it happens is two weeks after he bought the mask. 

Two people, a man and a woman dressed in familiar red, threaten a man not much older than him, and Zuko simply _reacts._

He doesn’t think, just hears the words ‘ash-maker’ and ‘flamelover,’ slips the blue mask over his face, and then he’s fighting.

Neither the man nor the woman are expecting anyone to stand up to them, and that makes them sloppy. The man barely knows how to throw a punch, but he’s big and tall, and the woman is no different. _The bigger they are, the harder they fall,_ Zuko thinks, and in a matter of minutes, they both lie slumped over against the building’s wall. 

He tilts his head, scanning the man for any injuries. His time with the herbalist may have been short, but she’s armed him with medicine and patience.

“Thank you.” The says, and all Zuko does is bow.

  
  


The first time it happens is out of instinct, not quite necessity, but if he does nothing, Zuko knows he’ll regret standing by.

All the times _after_ that, however, those are all planned with a precision and care that remind him of Azula’s ever calculating grin.

  
  


They give him a name.

He fights with twin dao swords, defends the people who’ve welcomed him from firebenders who won’t stop taking more and more every day, and they give him a name.

_The Blue Spirit._

They name him, and Zuko does more good like this than he’s ever imagined.

  
  


He keeps moving, never staying in one place too long, and his returns to his favorite places are few and far between.

But somehow, they know him.

Slowly, people stop staring at his burned face, at his golden eyes. Stop noticing all of the things that scream _Fire Nation!_

Slowly, almost painfully so, Zuko feels at home in his own skin. Because even if he’s here in the Earth Kingdom, far away from the heart of the Caldera and turtle-ducks and Uncle’s jasmine tea, he’s never felt warmth like this before.

Week by week, day by day, the ache deep within his chest fades. From a sharp pain to a dull throbbing, and things actually seem to be going _right_ for once. Zuko doesn’t trust it, he’s not ready for that yet. Not after everything that’s happened.

Not when he still wakes up, a scream caught in his throat, tears building behind his eyes, all because his father threw him away like he was nothing. Not when Azula _smiled_ as he was forced to leave, after all, she’d always wanted to be an only child. 

Not when his mother, the kindest person in his life, had left him without a word.

He’s the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, he wasn’t born with luck on his side, and he doesn’t see any reason that would change now.

Zuko is meant for something bigger than fighting people in dark alleyways. Sooner or later, he’s going to face Ozai and Azula, and all he knows is that it won’t be pretty.

He doesn’t know how he knows this, but he does, and if he were here, Uncle would have smiled and given him a cup of jasmine tea, told him a proverb, and maybe muttered something about spirits.

  
  


He doesn’t stop.

Zuko travels across the Earth Kingdom, collecting rumors like people collect books or shells or _whatever_ it is that interests them.

He’s gained some names, or so it seems, and it doesn’t fail to amuse him.

They still call him a son of dragons, because he _does_ have a tendency to breathe fire, and even more iconic, they call him _Agni’s Prince_ . They call him Agni’s Prince and call his name until a movement starts in the colonies, and lotus flowers fill the streets. They call him the true prince, _their prince._

And Zuko can’t help but laugh. He’s a prince, yes, but he’s abandoned his people, choosing to bide his time in the Earth Kingdom instead of help them, and sure, he might be one of, if not _the_ only firebenders wandering around that isn’t setting things on fire, but his bending is absolutely _terrible._

His skill with the blade? That’s always been better than most. If Azula was the firebending prodigy, then Zuko was the same with a sword, or at least that’s what Master Piando told him.

But _firebending?_ Zuko was terrible. The Sun Spirit’s so-called prince only recently relearned to hold a flame anywhere even remotely near himself.

The worst part is that someone had actually wanted him to _teach it._

Zuko. Teach firebending. They hadn’t even been a firebender! Just a swordsman who wanted to incorporate firebending moves into his fighting style. 

What a joke.

But regardless of any of that, Zuko finally feels _free._

His father still haunts his dreams, still whispers in his ear, but for the first time in his life, there’s no more pressure to be someone he isn’t, or comparisons to someone he can’t hope to beat. 

Zuko knows that something is coming, but for now, he’s basking in newfound freedom.

  
  


Three years after his banishment, Zuko catches wind of the Avatar, and wants to laugh at the irony.

Of course, the first thing he hears about the elusive airbender is that he’s been captured. And, that the Avatar is a _kid_ for spirits’ sake. An actual child.

_Agni must be having a field day with this_ , he thinks, lips curled upwards in a sly grin. 

This is his chance to make a difference. While releasing the kid wouldn’t do much now, it was obviously better in the long run. And if Zuko is being honest, which he is, he _hates_ Admiral Zhao with a passion. The man’s nowhere as bad as his father, not even close, but he’s an absolutely horrible person, arrogant and cruel.

But freeing the Avatar was _obviously_ the right thing to do, pettiness aside, so that was what he was going to do.

And honestly, Zuko just laughs at the irony of it all.

The Banished Prince who can’t return home without the Avatar in chains, going out of his way to sabotage the man holding the Avatar captive.

Zuko slips the mask over his face, and with the Pohaui Stronghold in his sights, he grins.

  
  


And silently, the Blue Spirit slinks into the night, a fox hunting the military hounds. There’s only one objective, unlike their usual endeavors, but the stakes are no less deadly.

Afterall, the Pohaui Stronghold is known for one thing. No one gets in, and no one gets out. It’s an impossible mission, the world knows this.

Zuko only grins.

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot how much I loved this fandom until my little brother started watching the show the other night, and I absolutely loved writing this, so I hope ya'll like it!
> 
> If anyone's curious what Zuko's scar looks like in this since I changed it up a bit, check out @pakchoys on instagram! I didn't really know how to describe his scar, but I saw their artwork of him and went from there.


End file.
